Chapter Twenty: The Lost Souls and the Necromancer's Arrival
The jingling of old, rusted chains. The sharp pain of a hundred cuts and bruises. The smell of drying blood, and the filth of the dungeon. Blood and puss poured out from her empty eye socket. The grin of the cruel Warchief Belos was upon her. A memory as vivid as life itself. Cries for water and freedom rang out through the dungeon. Right now, her ranger was far from here. Right now, she begged for one thing.
"Please… kill me…"
Ursa woke up panting for air, as if it had left her lungs. Her hair stuck to her skin, so thoroughly drenched with sweat. Her body trembled now. She could still feel the pain of the nightmare. The danger still felt close at hand. Now it all turned to rage. She grit her teeth and hissed as it took hold of her. With a hand stretched out, the flames climbed up, ready to burn it all away.
"Ursa!"
She turned to see the ranger beside her, his face filled with alarm. The Overlord gasped and called upon her flames once again, only this time it was to extinguish them. In an instant, they were gone, leaving an ashen burn mark along the fur rug lying at the foot of their bed.
Ursa said, "I… I didn't mean to… I'm so sorry, Talion."
His arms wrapped around her and he said, "What happened?"
"It was a nightmare… I've never created magic in my sleep before."
"You have gained power , Ursa. I sometimes awake from my sleep with a dagger drawn. Well, I don't keep it too close these days."
"I cannot hide away this power," she said, "I am a danger to you."
"Ursa… I am immortal," he stated bluntly, "Tell me what troubles you? Let us speak with it as we always do."
She said, "There is no point. They will not fade. Even with all this power, why am I still afraid? Will the memory of Belos continue to haunt me forever?"
He said, "Belos can never harm you again. In his shame, he lost his own mind. His Orcs turned on him, leaving him a cripple. There is nothing left of him to fear."
"I know… but in dream, I am again that helpless Orc in Udûn."
"Ursa… you were never helpless, you were just alone."
She said, "I don't know what is happening. Why did I call upon the fire?"
"To defend yourself. It was a nightmare."
She shook her head and said, "No… Deep down, what did I desire? In that moment, it was as if I was the fire."
"Talion… I'm scared. What am I becoming?"
"You are the same woman I married," said Talion, "the one that I love."
Ursa answered, "There's something inside of me. Whispering to me. It gave Sauron a voice. I must destroy it. I don't wish to become cold and cruel. After I destroyed the Tower, I promised myself I would never be cruel again, that even Ul-Khan deserved a swift death. Talion, you must not let this take me. Talion… if I lose that part of myself… then you must brand me."
The ranger said nothing. He placed his hands on the side of her head and titled it up to his own. He gazed down at her now, his eyes utterly focused on her, leaving her breathless.
"Ursa, I want you to listen to me… you are not cruel! You are not an evil thing. The world wronged you, yet you still seek its salvation. You have sought love and loved others through all of it. That is who you are. Your legacy. No more worries. Tonight, you will sleep in my arms and I will drive away the nightmares."
"Talion…"
Ursa whimpered as she wept in his embrace. She burrowed herself in his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. Even as a corpse, the heart of a man still rested within him, giving life to both of them. The Overlord took a deep breath and returned to sleep. Talion now slid to the side of her and held his wife close to him. She slept in his embrace through the night.
Although the night was dark, Ursa' spirits returned with dawn. She awoke to find her ranger with his arms wrapped around her. He had kept true to his promise. The Overlord let out a sigh as the first light of dawn landed upon her forehead. She remembered that they were no longer in Núrn, that she would not find Inga's crib in front of them. She wondered how much her daughter had grown in the weeks they had been away. Even if just a tenth of an inch, she wished so desperately to know. Ursa missed the sound of her cries. Even the less-than-savory memories, cleaning her messes and hearing her cries late at night… right now they seemed beautiful, like music that rejuvenates the soul. However, it was not to be.
Ursa felt her body heat up as she felt Talion rub his body against hers in his sleep and wrap his arms tightly across her chest. Of course, his snores were less welcome, especially perched against her ear. Even so, feeling his head besides her's was comforting. She remembered why she was there. To others, it might seem foolish for the Queen of Núrn to leave her duties and her daughter for a journey into the realm of the enemy. However, they went because they had to. Because Talion needed her and she needed him. Because together, their wits were unmatched. Because together, they transformed the world with ice and fire. Because together, they could do anything.
"Lady Idril, is that you?"
The shieldmaiden looked to the side where several of the freed slaves were resting. Her hands were full with a bowl of tasteless stew in each. All around her, the entire camp was downing the food, their empty stomachs finding it as delicious as a hot Gondorian meal. It was all they could do to pass the time. All about her were slaves, once proud citizens and soldiers of Gondor. They could be again, or at the very least, they could remain free.
At her feet, someone was scrutinizing her closely.
At last, he said, "It is you."
It was a man in his mid-thirties, with deep brown hair and a scar running from his ear to his lip.
She asked, "That scar… were you a soldier of Minas Ithil?"
He answered, "I was. I am Eodes, son of Bren. I was the sergeant of one of the first companies, sent to defend the wall. I was captured with the breaching of outer wall."
Idril answered, "You fought bravely. Our people escaped to the upper city thanks to you."
Eodes said, "They said Minas Ithil fell… that our people were slain. Is it true, my lady?"
"Has no one told you?" she asked.
When he did not answer, Idril sighed and looked away from him.
She answered, "Many hundreds survived. Camps like these are found about Mordor."
"Then it is true," he said, "It has fallen and all of Gondor will follow. We have failed. I have failed."
Idril said nothing to his quell his guilt.
He went on, "I thought my city beautiful, grander than even Minas Tirith herself. What could compare to her ivory tower that shone across the plains? Her walls that weathered the centuries? The faces of the crowds greeting you home as you returned victorious? How could Gondor's jewel be stolen? In a moment, how did our world turn to shadow? How did it come to this?"
Idril looked down at his face fell into sadness. Her cold eyes seemed to waver for a moment, as if trying to draw upon the emotions of another life. He began to weep, a lamentation for what was lost forever.
She said, "Minas Ithil… lives on."
Eodes' face now lit up. Although her voice was cold, her words gave him warmth.
The woman continued, "You must live on and tell others of her splendor… Of the promised day, when light returns to her golden halls. Of the day her people come home."
He said, "If you would have me, I would serve with you and Baranor."
Idril said, "We will need men to escort the women and children to Núrn. Those able with sword are welcome."
"Thank you, my lady."
She bowed without smile and turned away to go join Baranor who was sharpening his blade at the side of the wall. As she approached, she stopped to look up at the watch tower. The black clouds of smoke were thick in Gorgoroth, but the watchtower had turned to gold regardless. As the volcanic fumes were blown about by the wind, the sun's radiance slipped inside. Idril now looked away from its light, and rejoined her comrade. She knelt down beside him and handed him one of the bowls.
"Thank you," he said before scooping up some of the slop.
He said, "That was kind of you."
Idril said, "It will be a long road. It is too soon for them to give up."
"Did you believe what you said?" he asked, "That we would reclaim Minas Ithil?"
She said, "It is but a dream. I do not know the future of the world."
Baranor said, "I hope that day comes soon. That the Orcs are driven out and I… I will get to return to my estate. Then I can give my parents the burial they deserved."
"Oh Baranor…"
Her voice wavered as she spoke, gazing down at him softly. Idril sat down close beside him now. They ate in silence for the rest of the morning.
As dusk slipped away, word soon reached Talion's camp, sent from the spiders. They spoke of a Black Riders coming. Talion and Ursa prepared a company for his arrival. The plan was simple. Orcs were to pose as the engineers at the factory to avoid suspicion. When the Nazgul drew near, the Orcs would turn on them. Meanwhile, cavalry led by Ursa would surround the factory and ensure none escaped. The Warchief of Gorgoroth would await in his keep if anything went awry. As for Talion, he would watch with the others from a hilltop. There were too few places to hide and the rooftop might be watched as they approached. Once the Ringwraith drew near, Talion would teleport to the rooftop to assassinate him. The Nazgul would be banished from the realm and they would be free to conquer the nearby Overlord. Idril and Baranor would go with them, as would several soldiers such as Eodes. They were not to engage in the immediate battle, but to serve as reinforcements. With their sword skills being better than most Orcs, such allies were quite valuable.
Celebrimbor spoke, to his servants, saying, "I sense a wraith. He draws near."
The ranger was laying down on the volcanic hilltop while his cavalry hid further down. Ursa lay by his side, wanting to assess the terrain. Behind their division, were the ruins of an old fort. It's second level had long broken off and fallen to the ground beneath it. Here, Talion's archers spied on the factory that lay about three hundred feet away.
Talion said, "I will take to the rooftop of the factory. A surprise attack will do nicely against these agents."
Ursa replied, "If he tries to escape, I will set my fire upon him."
Up ahead, they saw the Black Rider, and a train of a hundred Orcs. Some goblins rode on horses, while others rode on Caragor. Bringing a cavalry division was a risk, but it allowed them to cross Mordor more swiftly. Likely, the Nazgul also chose to ride by steed to keep their mission a secret from enemies such as Talion. After all, the weapon was of the upmost secrecy.
Talion and the Elf could now see the rider had reached the front of the foundry. He would soon examine its contents and find it to be a trap. The Nazgul stopped on his horse. Several Orcs dismounted and began to knock on the door.
Ursa said, "Here is your chance."
Talion said, "Wait…."
His silver eyes slowly scrutinized the target, as well as his Orcs. On the surface, it seemed believable. There were no tells to suggest otherwise. They sensed the Nazgul's presence, the fear he was taking in from all life about him. However, the ranger could not forgo years of training, of hunting Orcs and facing these dark specters.
The Wraith spoke, "There is no time to waste, Talion. Let us slay this wretch before we lose sight of him."
The ranger said, "Something is amiss. They seem… on edge. Look… the Wraith is sending a dozen in ahead of him. He seems too cautious… as if he is afraid."
Ursa said, "Have they caught on to us? Why do you think it strange for him to be cautious? Are these Nazgul not cunning?"
"He does not move like a Nazgul. Their movements are graceful and malicious… like serpents. This rider is afraid."
Ursa said, "A fake? Like my own gambit with the Tower. Then the real one is-"
From the ground behind the army, a black cloud of smoke poisoned the area. The rippling rags of the Nazgul protruded out as he ascended. He had come all this way without taking physical form, spying on them in the netherworld. His sword now turned forward upon the Orcs in the back of the ranks. His blade silently slipped off one's throat and then beheaded the other.
Up ahead, Talion said, "We are being hunted."
He spun around down towards the ranks. Idril and Baranor looked at him with surprise.
He said, "Draw swords!"
The Ringwraith let out a scream that froze Talion's men, leaving them listless. Baranor pulled out his bow and spied it through his men. His arrow fired for its head, but it vanished from sight. Its gaseous form poured into the fortress behind them, disappearing into the wall.
The ranger said, "It's in the ground. Watch your feet! Keep shields and swords drawn. Offer it no quarter."
Talion turned to Ursa and said, "Stay close."
"Talion…" she said, "Look."
She pointed up ahead with horror. From the stone wall, illuminated specters emerged. They marched forward with swords drawn. Their flesh was hollow, only a shell of a sickly pale light of the dead. Their faces were empty, and their minds turned to madness.
"The dead call," said the Wraith from the shadows.
"Necromancy," said the Bright Lord, "This one is dangerous, far more than the one we faced in Núrn."
"Keep your weapons drawn. Fight them back!" roared the ranger.
The Orcs began to do battle with the ghosts. The phantoms clashed against their blades and traded blows. Several Uruk fell in an instant. Others, more skillful, landed strikes to the ghosts' heads. As they did, the phantoms let out a dying gasp of air and vanished.
Baranor suddenly said, "Look closely… they wear the armor of my city. These men were… it cannot be. This evil will not go unpunished!"
He roared and charged forward. Idril followed closely, her rage less transparent. The captain swung hard down into one of the ghosts, smiting it where it stood. He and Idril began to duel them, forcing them to retreat backwards.
"Stay back!" said the ranger, "Leave it to the Orcs."
Ursa tried to put aside the comment, even as it stung her. She drew out fire and set it upon the phantoms. They howled and vanished.
"The dead cannot be slain," spoke the dead king, "They fell as men of Gondor and arose eternal, tied down with strings. Pull but a little and their wills bends to my bidding!"
The Nazgul appeared now in the center of Talion's ranks. He slashed down, cutting open an Orcs head. As a goblin reactively swung at him, he launched forward like an arrow, with black smoke trailing behind him. Another Orc's head was removed. Talion fired off an arrow and appeared beside the cloaked phantom. The ranger swung down with his sword. As their blades crossed, he realized he knew this Nazgul. It was the one who had tried to slay Baranor in Minas Ithil, the one with the silver crown. As the revelation hit him, the Nazgul again returned to the ethereal plain only to reappear in the shadows.
Talion said, "Stop running you cowardly dog!"
He now saw the phantoms of the dead appearing all about him. Their puppet master had summoned every last one.
The Bright Lord said, "They are under his spell. We must free their souls."
"How?" asked Talion.
"Bind them, take them for our own, and release them from death."
"I will not bind another man!"
"It is only for a moment. If you do not, their spirits will remain corrupted husks for the enemy to use."
"I... Very well!" said Talion as he grit his teeth.
Talion began to duel with several ghosts at once. He kicked one backwards and blocked the swing of another. He drew out the glave and slashed open their throats. As the phantoms' forms began to fall apart, he grabbed hold of the last one standing. The Bright Lord called upon his ring and wrapped his will around that of the Nazgul. The corruption was overrun as his cruel light conquered it. And so the dead soldier was his.
Talion said, "I release you from this curse."
The soldier let out a gasp of relief.
"Thank you…"
With that, his luminous form was blown away, taken by a gust of wind without origin.
Baranor said, "Protect Talion! He is the only one who can free them!"
Eodes now ran forward.
He turned to Idril and asked, "Are you aright my lady?"
Idril said nothing. She blocked a swing with her shield while sending her blade into the neck of another. Even this would not thwart her. Inside, she felt sick to her stomach as she slew her old comrades. To think that their deaths were preferable…
Idril said, "Do not lower your guard. The Nazgul is-"
She saw a blade plunge through Eodes from behind. The Ringwraith swiftly tore free his blade and spun it to the side. The man's head came rolling off. Idril's eyes widened with shock. She then sealed her mouth tightly and charged forward. Her sword came down on the Nazgul. His blade ran off the edge of hers. He pulled it back and sent it forward with the speed of a lightning bolt. She grunted as it broke apart the side of her buckler. Idril crossed blades with him again as they prepared death blows. Suddenly, Baranor came at the side and slashed at the Wraith. His sword fazed through his black mantle and the Nazgul hid from sight once more.
She said, "Where is he?"
I will not break from this.
For all of her thoughts of death and glory, Idril was rational in her own way. She never took on a challenge she could not win or let pure emotion drive her. Even as the Nazgul destroyed her world again, she sought his death whether at her hands or those of her comrades. She would have it.
"It is him!" she said, "The one who slew my father. No, wait. If so then-"
Up ahead, more soldiers appeared from the wall. They split their ranks in two to make way for their leader, the lieutenant. He was a tall phantom without helmet, and with armor far grander than their own. He was an elderly man, but still tall and powerful.
Idril's eyes shook again. She bit down on her lip and drew blood as she felt her stomach tighten. Her mind turned to fire. Her eyes sharpened as she struggled to accept such a terrible fate. Before her, stood her father, transformed into naught but a puppet for the bidding of wicked masters. Stripped of his valor and honor.
The Nazgul spoke, "A gift to the daughter of Minas Ithil. An invitation to reunite with his Grace in death eternal."
Ursa shouted out, "You are a cruel one, Wraith!"
She stretched out her hand and called out, "All Orc are to take to horse and charge the factory. Slay them all! Talion! To me!"
Talion dashed to her side as the phantoms swarmed about them. His back pressed against her own as they watched on all sides for the crowned king
The phantoms dashed forward, some swords drawn and others with spears in hand. Ursa poured fire across the landscape, trying to avoid the lingering allies such as Idril and Baranor. Her flames consumed all around her. From behind, her ranger drew upon the ring and sent blades of ices into them. They came up from the ground and impaled the soldiers, leaving their bodies strung up in the air. He then reached out and began to take their minds before they could vanish. Already, he had freed half a dozen.
By the wall of the fortress, Idril dueled with her father. Her sword collided with his as she continued to charge him. With her buckle close at hand, she knocked his weapon away and sent the sword into his gut. The phantom let out a bellow and vanished, if but for a moment. The Nazgul now appeared over her. Her sword flew through the air and crashed down behind the assassin. She swiftly blocked his next strike with her buckler as his blade dug deep into the wood. Idril drew out her dagger and slashed swiftly at his throat. The Wraith parried a strike to the side and blocked her next blow with the metal shards of his gauntlet. Her captain then swooped down upon him. Baranor exchanged blades and Idril came from the side. The Wraith parried both fighters elegantly as he slowly retreated. Idril suddenly charged forward and rammed her shield at him. Her vicious blow forced the Wraith to focus solely on her, giving Baranor an opening. He swung his sword downwards, but the Nazgul phased through it. He then grabbed Baranor by the throat and slammed him into the wall of the ruins. As the warrior was momentarily stunned, the Ringwraith bashed the back of his sword down into his helm. Baranor collapsed, his mind momentarily slipping away. The Wraith then twisted over his blade and prepared a downward stab.
"Do not touch him" said Idril as she tossed her dagger at him. The Nazgul deflected it and swung his sword at her defenseless form. From behind, she pulled out her sword, having reclaimed it at that moment without his knowing. The Wraith was forced backwards by her surprise attack. He then spun his sword violently while stepping briskly backwards to dodge her swift blows. As he gained distance upon her, he pulled up his arms and prepared another thrust, intending to teleport by her side. Idril glared at him, unsure if she could block it. She remembered him dashing at the Orcs, taking off their heads even as they tried to defend themselves. His speed had proven too fast for even the trained eye to see, and she could not follow his movements.
Will I die here?
Idril rose the remains of her buckler up to her head, hoping to soften the blow. She held her sword forward, ready to spring to the side or slash down if need be. However, she felt death's door calling to her as the Nazgul prepared to devour its prey. Suddenly, Ursa's fire came down upon him. He spun his cloak towards her to block most of it, but still he began to burn.
He hissed and screamed horrifically as her fire swelled around him. However, for all his pain, he ceased his flailing for a moment as if forgoing the pain. He became still and turned to the Witch Queen.
He pointed now to her and said, "I should have killed you first. Your lands will burn, she-Orc."
With that, he left their sight as her fire returned.
Ursa said, "I believe he has retreated."
The ranger said, "A moment will be enough."
Idril said, "Talion… I beg you to free my father from his fate. Do not leave him to suffer so."
"It will be done," he said.
Together they could see Castamir regaining form. First, they saw only a feint glow in the air, impossible to see if one were not looking for it. Soon he took shape and detail, as if embalmed forever in the armor he had worn when he died.
Ursa said, "Deal with him, Talion. I will hold off the others."
"Thank you, Ursa," he said.
He drew out his sword and Idril, hers. They gazed forward at the great general of Minas Ithil.
The ghost said, "Idril…"
"Father…" she said, "I will bring you peace."
She charged forward now and swung at him. She roared as his sword collided with hers. Talion stood behind her, ready to move in should she fail. The general sent a slash upon Idril's cheek as she failed to properly parry his sword. Talion now grabbed for the hilt of his sheathed sword, fearing for her life. Kastamir sent a low swing upwards at her throat, knocking away her blade. He swiftly swung down at her collar, seeing an opening. However, Idril had grown. Her feet moved to the side as his cut ran past her. With a battle cry, Idril ran her sword through his chest, causing him to cry out in pain as if he were still a man of flesh and blood. The ranger charged forward, reaching out with his hand to grab the General by the throat. Celebrimbor was called forth and tore at his mind. He fought to take hold of him, to steal him from the grasp of the puppet master. However, the ring of a Black Rider could not win in the battle against the Bright Lord's own weapon. He took hold of Castamir and released his curse.
The green features of the phantom then turned white. They saw some color on his face. His silver beard, his rosy flesh, his green eyes... Idril knew this man.
"Idril?"
"Father…. It is you."
"Idril, forgive me. I… failed you, I failed my people. Now, I am no more than the puppet of a monster… the final testament of a foolish man."
"Yes," she said, "You were a fool. No one's life is worth the death of our people."
"I know… even so I could bear to lose you. I already lost your mother. I see now I was blind and selfish. I sought always to protect you… to control you when what you needed was to know you were loved."
"I knew you loved me, Father. It was love that turned you to madness."
"No… it was my fear. I should not have traded your life. I should not have chosen for you. I should have fought to protect all that I loved, not to lock it away. I thought if you lived on, nothing else would matter. I did not see that it was destroying you."
He continued, "Idril… I am proud of you. You have become a great warrior of Gondor. Your mother… would be proud to."
From his daughter's face, he saw a single tear fall.
She said, "Go to her, Father. Be by her side as you desire. I will remain here a little longer until my work is done."
"Idril… live on. Even through the pain, know that you are worth living. Be free of me. Be free of all these banes you carry. If you will follow this path, choose it for yourself. Fight for your freedom."
She asked, "Farewell, Father. I love you."
He smiled warmly at her once more and then left the world of the living.
The battle for the forge was soon over. The Nazgul vanished, likely retreating to Mordor. Knowing their final battle lay elsewhere, he chose to except a momentary loss. His prized weapon would not be handed over to Sauron. As for the rest of his forces, they were soon vanquished. Now at the Warchief's estate, all was about to be decided.
"Eodes…" she said, "He did not live to see my promise through."
Baranor said, "Then we should carry that promise with us… always."
Idril said, "We will."
She then turned to Talion and said, "If you will allow it, these people will remain here a little longer. There are many more camps to liberate."
"I can go with you," said the ranger.
"It would be best not leave your Overlord unattended," she said, "you have your war to fight. I have mine."
"The Orcs are under my command are loyal. If you wish, I will send a battalion with you, yours to command."
She said, "I know of your power. If you were to fall, they would turn on us."
Talion said, "We will not fail, Idril."
"That is my hope. However, Baranor and I have accomplished much on our own. Surely, you would know. You brought only your Queen with you."
"As you wish," said the ranger, "Then I will meet you again in Núrn one day."
Idril shook her head and said, "I will take them to your coast, but I will not stay there. My place is here. Gorgoroth is vast. Even if you conquer the keeps here, hundreds of slaves are scattered in its outer camps. This is where I am meant to be."
She then turned to Baranor and said, "I know I said I would go to Núrn but… I do not think I am ready for peace. War has destroyed that part of me. Perhaps one day, it will return. Then… then I can give you your answer. Yes, I will give you an answer you will like."
"I thought you might say that," said Baranor, "It is the same for all of us. I see it in Talion, in you, and in my own heart. While we still draw breath, we must fight for all that is good. I would not have it any other way. Even if you planned to go to Núrn, I would not leave this plateau."
"So, then this is your choice," she said, "I see. Will you venture with me a little longer, Baranor?"
"I will, my lady."
She smiled at him now. It was one of pain, but also comfort.
I am no longer sure of myself. I sought to walk alone, but yet I allowed you to stay with me. Even as I charged into the arms of death, did I still wish to live? I do not know. I have much to think about.
Idril turned to Talion and said, "Thank you, Ranger. I am truly grateful for your courage."
Talion said, "Keep yours close always."
The shield maiden answered, "Farewell Talion… hero of Gondor."
With her captain beside her, the daughter of Minas Ithil trekked away into the ash and fires of Gorgoroth. Her quest was one of madness, but she did not face it alone. Ahead, an uncertain future lay before her. A chance to regain herself or become a great foe of Sauron. To find peace or cast it aside forever. The ranger would never know the answer to her story. They would not meet again.